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Lawrence, George A. (George Alfred), 1827-1876

"Guy Livingstone; or, 'Thorough'"


Ralph went up to the officer in command.
"How very good of you to come yourself, Harding, when I only asked you
for a troop. Come in; you shall have some supper in half an hour, and
Fritz will take care of your men. Throw all that carrion out," he went
on, as we entered the hall, strewn with corpses. "We'll give them a
truce to take up their dead."
Clontarf came to meet us; he had only been stunned and bruised by the
fall. His pale face flushed up as he said, "I shall never forget that I
have to thank you for my life."
"It's not worth mentioning," Mohun replied, carelessly. "I hope you are
not much the worse for the tumble. Gad! it was a near thing, though. The
quarryman's arms were a rough necklace."
At that moment they were carrying by the disfigured remains of the dead
Colossus. His slayer stopped them, and bent over the hideous face with a
grim satisfaction.
"My good friend Delaney," he muttered, "you will own that I have kept my
word. If ever we meet again, I think I shall know you. _Au revoir_," and
he passed on.
I need not go through the congratulatory scene, nor describe how Kate
blushed as they complimented her on her nerve. Fortunately for her, she
had seen nothing, though she had heard all.


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